The Fallen Saints
by Blood Typhoon
Summary: When the three are gunned down by a hitman from the trouble in Boston, three boys from Jersey will take over for their heros and cleanse the world of the degrees of evil in which their idols had done, and in the process, learn that they'll have more enemi
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to Boondock Saints. If I did, well, I'd be a cult leader! **

Chapter 1:The Fallen Rise Once More

The three boys walked amongst the streets of Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan. The second oldest of them, a twenty one year old boy smiled as he thought about what happened the day before. The boy had crystal blue eyes, and a buzzed hair cut, brown hair nearly all gone. He wore a pair of blue jeans, and a black SlipKnot Shirt. His steel toed black boots thud against the ground.

"Dude you would not believe what I did last night while you guys were stuck with your girlfriends." He said. His tone was not of one of a New Yorker. It was one from a kid from New Jersey.

"What'd you do?" Asked the oldest of the two. His hair was dark brown, his skin tanned thanks to some time out in Iraq, serving his country as a Marine. The war was over, and now it was time to live life over again. He wore a pair of blue jeans, and black boots that almost resembled one pair of a Nazi's.

"Yeah bro, what the hell did you do now?" The third kid has a mess of hair upon his head and like his friend's, it was brown. His skin was somewhat pale, and he was rather skinny. He wore a blue hoodie, and a pair of blue jeans with a pair of sneakers. He looked at his friend as they walked.

"Guys, stop." The three of them did so. The two others looked at the one speaking. "I got to drink with The Saints!"

"DUDE NO FUCKIN' WAY!" The oldest shouted.

"I AM NOT BELIEVING THAT YOU SHMUCK OF A FUCK!" The skinny one yelled at him.

"Would I lie about something like that? Come on, I could get you guys going with some a lot better than that! Tom, Alex, you have to believe me!"

Tom, the oldest, considered it. "You're right. You wouldn't lie to us..." He said softly.

Alex, the youngest and the skinniest nodded. "I agree. Dude how was it?"

"It was fucking amazing bros. It was just amazing!" Then, there were gunshots and angered curses filling their ears.

Matt, Tom, and Alex looked at each other as they ran towards where they heard the gunshots. They moved as fast as they could, the three of them running down the alleyway as they came to a sight they wouldn't have wanted to see in all of their days. Before them, blood filled the alleyway, two guys laid on the ground bleeding, and dead. Looked like two hitmen from their standing point. But on the opposite side, on the ground, bleeding and muttering silent prayers. Alex's eyes were wide, as well as Matt and Tom's. The three boys ran to the three standing before them.

Connor and Murphy's blood ran down their chests. Their guns were at their side as their Da' held the two of them as close as he could to them. Kayne's eyes found their way upon the form of Matt. His own eyes filled with a sudden sadness as Connor and Murphy found their eyes on the young boy as well.

"Ah fuck..." Connor's reply to their presence was.

"Ah shit! Did ya have to come and ruin our death?" Murphy asked, still he had that wise ass tone in his irish voice even in death.

"Aye Matt, ye shouldn't be here to see this." Kayne, also known as Da, said.

Matt bent down as did the other two, taking off their shirts to try and wrap the wounds. Connor pushed them away.

"Its our time boys...we've done this to ourselve's. Agent Smecker...is in the hospital, he got shot a couple of days ago, nearly a mortal wound...but, We will go before god...but promise me one thing boys...just one thing..." Kayne said. Matt and his two brothers nodded.

"First, lay the three of us down." Connor said, Murphy seconding that.

The three of them did so, and placed their hands upon their chests as if they were in their caskets already. Alex and Tom removed six pennies from the pockets of Connor and Murphy. Matt stood at Connor and Murphy's side holding to them, fighting the tears ready to sting their eyes. Then, Kayne spoke. "Promise me boys..." He said. They all promised.

Kayne spoke. "As you raise your flashing swords and your hands take hold in judgement, you will take vengence upon thine enemies, and you will repay 'dose who haze ye. Oh lord, take dese boys to dy right hand, and count 'dem among dy saints." Connor smiled his famous Irish smile as Murphy smiled his as well. Matt watched as their eyes closed. He nodded to Alex and Tom as they handed him two pennies, and he placed them upon Connor's eyes. Alex put two upon the closed eyes of Murphy, and Tom upon the two of Kayne. Then, Matt moved to the top of the three of them, kneeling above their heads. He looked at Tom, and Alex. The three of them had heard this prayer by the papers, and from local people who swear they survived the Saints in Boston, Mass.

The three of them spoke in Unison. "And Shepards we shall be. For thee my lord for Thee. Power hath descened forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command. So we'll flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti." Tears fell from Matt's eyes as his heros, and his new friends, had been gunned down. Tom and Alex looked at each other. Matt was the first to stand after kissed over his hand on the three's lips, goodbye. He looked at the two of his friends.

"We will take our vengence. We will continue what they started." Alex and Tom nodded.

"We have to go see Agent Smecker first." Tom said.

"And we better let him know he has two choices. Let us do their dream, or he can be pushed down from our path." Alex commented. Matt nodded, and the three made their way to the hospital.

At the Hospital, Agent Smecker had been told he had three visitors. He expected the Mcmannus family to come see him now, but this was late. They never stayed out late. Paul Smecker hadn't expected what was before him though. His eyes widened in fear as he realized three were not in fact, the MacMannus family. He looked at them. He realized his gun wasn't at his side. "What the fuck do you three want?" He asked in angered suprise.

"We're here to tell you two things. First...they're dead Agent Smecker. They were gunned down by some kind of mob hit. And the second thing, We're here to tell you that we're taking over for them." Matt said, his voice was soft, yet very angered.

"You have two choices. The first, would be to help us as you helped them." Alex said, his voice was dangerous.

"The second would be for you to get in our way, and become those we count as enemies." Tom said, glaring at the FBI Agent.

Agent Smecker thought a moment, and realized, he might as well help them. He'd get the vengence he sought by helping these boys. "Alright, you guys have my support. I'll tell you now, my boys caught some pud-pullin' barrel assed panzie who has connections with the Yakavetta family from Boston. Found out a couple days ago that they had someone new take over for them, and I guess this is the guy who is going to claim he killed him. The trial will be two weeks away, things are different here in New York." He said weakly, still reeling from the death of three fallen friends.

"Then that gives us three weeks to prepare." Tom said looking at his two best friends. Matt and Alex nodded, the three of them left without a good bye. On the way out, Matt looked at Tom. "We're gonna need your Marine connections. Get us weapons and cash." Tom grinned, he was definitely going to love this, just as much as Alex was ginning.

**A/N: Me and my friends were talking about what would happen if we were in the world of the Boondock Saints, and what would happen if we decided to become something like the saints. Well, this is it. And I'm sorry I killed the three off in this, please don't hurt me! I swear, if the story doesn't come out good, then you can have me head! Please Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-The Courtoom and the Unveiling

It had been been longer than Agent Smecker originally thought. It was actually a month and a half. But that was good. Matt, Tom, and Alex all had time to prepare for it. Over the first two weeks, Tom had been training Alex and Matt in physical fitness tests. Normally, Matt and Alex could barely do a hundred push-ups. Now, they were actually able to do two hundred. Matt was horrible with running, but now he could run the mile run without a problem. Alex was just as well off as well. They were lifted a hundred and eighty pounds each as well. Tom was quite pleased that he was able to train his two best friends.

Next came the target practice. Alex had grown up with a paintball gun, and he was pretty amazing with his accuracy. But nothing prepared him for the weapons they were going to use. Tom had gotten hooked up with special help with him being in the Marines. Tom himself had gotten an M-4 Carbine assault rifle with silencer. It was his weapon of choice. He had bought enough rounds to help him take out a warehouse full of people. Tom bought Alex's prefernce, a Beretta M9 with Silencer, he himself following the direct patterns of the Fallen Saints. And Matt, well he was a sucker for weapons that can cause big holes in people. He chose a .357 Magnum. Tom had gotten him enough shells, as well for Alex. Alex's aim with the new weapon was off in the beginning, but now it was spectacular. Matt's aim with his weapon of choice was definitely off in the beginning. There was a lot of recoil on the gun, but now he had it down to a T, and could blow shoot a penny out of the air without thinking twice. The three were ready. And when they got the call from Agent Smecker on their cell phones, they knew that their time was now.

Officer Duffy, well, now it was Agent Duffy, as well as Agent Greenly and Dolly, waited inside the courtoom. The three Bostonian officers had been tested to join the FBI, as per Smecker's request. They passed the test, and they were now partners with Agent Paul Smecker. Agent Duffy waited inside with Agent Dolly, undercover and at the Fire Escape as Agent Dolly had done once before. This all felt so familiar to him, and something was strange and unsettling about it. Agent Duffy waited, calmly. He wanted a cigarette so bad at this point. Greenly waited outside to confirm to Smecker when the new three were on their way.

In the Courtroom, Judge Presling was presiding, trying to get straight answers out of the hitman, known as Anthony Genovsi. He kept telling them that he did it because they had no right to go around killing innocent people. The reports and journalists happened to love how serious the guy was. There was no doubt in their minds that he would do time, but thanks to his charisma and serious tone, he might do maybe two to three years and get off with parole in a year. That would be lucky for him.

"Mr. Genvosi, please try to be serious. You are being charged with murder in the first degree." Said the Prosecuting attorney.

"No, I am serious. Those Irish Bastards had no right taking lives in the name of God! They killed GOOD PEOPLE." He argued in his serious tone. "Just like they'd have killed your mother."

The Judge countered that little statement. "One more wise crack and I'll have you removed from this courtoom." He said seriously.

"Yeah well..." The trial droned on.

A green Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up. Out of the driver and Passenger side, stepped Tom and Alex. Matt exited out the back carrying a black duffel bag, and Alex and Tom did the same.

"They're here." Green said through his radio.

The three boys from Jersey walked to where Smecker met them, and he pressed a few numbers on a keypad. The three of them walked through, throwing the duffle bags over the metal detector. When they were clear, they made their way towards the courtoom, pulling out their weapons.

_"Never shall innocent blood be shed. Yet the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river. The three shall spread their blackened wings, and become the vengeful striking hammer of God." _

They made their way to the door, and they rammed through them, Tom whipping out his M-4 Carbine. He aimed across. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! EVERYONE TO THE BACK! AND SHUT THE FUCKING CAMERAS OFF!" He roared out in a dark, enraged tone as he grabbed hold of the judge, and threw him right towards the security guards. "Weapons down, weapons down on the floor!" The guards complied easily, scared shitless. Matt and Alex made their ways to where the hitman, Anthony Genvosi was, and grabbed hold of him, literally lifting him, and tossing him over the stand. He landed firmly on his back and they lifted him up. Tom looked as everyone panicked. It was chaos, disorder, and fear. Matt sniffed the air. He held his gun out, his thumb on the hammer. Alex did the same. Tom spoke:

"You people here, have been chosen, to reveal our existence to the world. We are the new three who will take the place of the murdered ones in which HE KILLED! HIRED BY A MAFIA DON! You will witness what happens here today, and you will tell of it later." He said and looked at Matt and Alex. He nodded. The other two cocked the hammers on their gun, and then jumped onto two seperate tables. Tom, followed jumping on the judges stand. Matt was the first one to speak. Everyone's eyes went wide.

"Now you will receive us!" Matt spoke.

"We don't want your hungry, or your poor!" Alex told them darkly.

"We don't want your tired and sick!" Tom yelled as he held his gun looking at the crowd.

"It is your corrupt we claim!" Matt yelled out at them.

"It is your evil that will be sought by us!" Tom said with passion.

"With every breath, we shall hunt them down." Matt said.

"Each day, we will spill their blood! Till it rains down from the skies!" Alex filled in with passion.

"Do Not Kill, Do not Rape, Do not Steal. These are principles with which every man of every faith can embrace!" Tom said.

"These are not polite suggestions! These are codes of behavior, and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost!" Alex said.

"There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over, into true corruption, into our domain." Matt barked out darkly.

"For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three! And on that day, YOU WILL REPENT!" Tom cursed out at them.

"And we will send you to whatever God, you wish." Alex said with a dark, yet soothing tone.

The three of them jumped down in back of Anthony Genvosi. They began in unison.

"And Shepards we shall be. For thee my lord for thee."

"WHY DON'T YOU THREE GO FUCK YOURSELVES!" Anthony screamed out at them. The three continued with their guns to the back of his head.

"Power hath descended forth from thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command. So we'll flow a river forth to thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be." They ended their unison, and then the three boys took their own parts of the ending.

"In nomine Patris." Tom said.

"Et Fili," Alex spoke.

"Spiritus Sancti." Matt said. The three had already cocked their guns, and fired straight into the skull of Anthony. He would kill no more.

_The three boys had run out through the back of the courtroom, as the fire alarm had been pulled. It was time to get the hell out of there. They made their way to the Jeep Grand Cherokee. On the phone, they received a phone call. It was from Smecker._

_"Meet us at a safer location. What do you prefer?"_

_Matt looked at Alex and Tom, and he nodded._

_"We got a place in Queens." He gave him the adress and then hung up._

Back in Boston however, the head of every major family on the east coast met. The leader, who now ran the Yakavetta family, shook his head. He was a fairly tanned man with brown, long hair. He was wearing a black Armani Suit, smoking a cigar. "It seems to me, that we got a problem. My informant tells me that...Anthony Genvosi has taken...a downward spiral. He did manage to kill the Irish Cocksuckers who did this! But...we have three new bastards who want a peice o' the action. What do we propose to do about this?"

"I say, aside from killing them, we make sure that the sons of bitches understand they aren't on God's time. They're on ours. Why not hit em' where it hurts? Take out the family first." The leader of the NY Family said.

Hmm. That was a good idea. Papa Joe never really thought of that, did the son of a bitch? No. You didn't, the new crime boss said. And it's a shame I had to come and take your family by force too. Oh well. As the man thought to himself, a hand found its way to the .45 pistol on the table. One guy, he knew was a cop. Suddenly, he lifted it up, and fired right into the cop's throat. A hot red liquid fell from his throat as his eyes widened and he fell. He crumpled to the floor. The new leader smiled. "Well, meeting adjurned." He said, getting up, and leaving.

**A/N: Well, that's chapter two. I know that there were lines from the movies...and I appologize for those who want to completely kill me. I just figured if they are going to take after the three, they might as well go with it. More will be explained in the next chapter of how they knew exactly what to say, I promise you this. So again, review.**


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: And now for the long awaited explanation of how the New Three learned all that stuff._

Matt walked into the apartment, his fists were covered in blood. He dropped the blood soaked shirt he was wearing on the floor, revealing a knife slash going across his chest. His eyes expressed a grim satisfaction. As he walked towards the living room, Matt dropped his .357 Magnum Revolver. The heavy set revolver made a thud against the floor. He took off his blood caked pants, and relaxed. His eyes were wide with a strange displacement. A grim satisfaction. Every bone in his body ached with the hunger for more. He moved, and every limb begged for the fast reaction speed he demonstrated earlier. He moved into the living room apartment.

Alex and Tom were sitting on the couch, drinking a beer each. They were watching some random show on television when they heard their brother in arms walk through the door. They looked at each other. Generally, Matt would make some random comment when he walked through the door. The two gave each other a concerning look and stood up, and walked to the entry way of the kitchen where they saw Matt undress himself. They both noted the hungry, carnal look within his eyes. Alex looked at Tom, who was expressing a look that said...why the hell don't you ask what's up you dumbass? Alex nodded.

"Matt...Hey bro. What's up?" Alex asked, his voice soft. Matt turned, his eyes focusing upon his brother.

"Nothing. I went out...found a rapist, I dealt with him. They won't find his remains." He said, rather darkly. His voice was filled with the same carnal hunger that plagued his eyes.

"You're covered in blood dude. What happened?" Tom asked. He was genuinely concerned that some of that blood was Matt's.

"I didn't use the revolver. I used my hunting knife. I was leaving Adrianna's, and I heard some girl scream. I ran over to where she was, and it was a little girl dude. No older than fourteen. Some drunk prick was trying to rape her. So, I took the revolver from its hostler, and cracked him upside the head with the handle. I told the girl to run, she did. She thanked me, I just told her that this guy wouldn't be bothering anyone else. So, while the guy was on the ground, I lifted him up, and brought him to an empty apartment building. I waited till he woke up before I started. When he finally did wake up...just about an hour and a half ago, well, he didn't like what he saw, he tried to fight, he was sent to be judged by God. God will have fun judging him...that is if the soul reflects the way the body was treated..." He finished, and a dark, grim, cold grin flashed upon Matt's face. Alex and Tom understood the rest. There was no need to continue in detail.

"I've gotta talk to you guys when I get out of the shower." Alex and Tom nodded, and Matt went into the bathroom.

The two looked at each other. Maybe the McMannus family prayer's secret, would finally be revealed. Matt had never told them. He just told them how it went. And he told them what had been said at that court room in Boston a year and a half ago. So, they went back to the couch, and waited. After about twenty minutes, Matt emerged from the shower, dressed in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a white-tee shirt. He came, and laid down on the love seat leaning against the wall. He sighed. "Alright, listen. You guys remember that dude we met when we went to my dad's a year and a half ago?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, he worked for the Bergen Record. That was right after the--" Tom was cut off as Alex piped in grinning.

"The cleansing of Evil. He was up there and stuff, right?" Alex asked. Matt nodded.

"Not only that, but he also had a tape recorder in his pocket. All that stuff we said to the hitman at the court house, they said. The prayer, was on that tape. He let me listen to it. My dad of course was totally against it, but the guy always liked to see me worship new heros." So that was it. A simple reporter that Matt's father knew personally. Tom and Alex nodded, sort of in disbelief.

"Well, you know, we do have to come up with a prayer of our own. I mean, we can't go right ahead and use theirs. Its not right." Tom, being the ever devout Catholic, clearly stated. Alex laughed.

"He's right you know. We're going to have to come up with a new one." Alex said, matter-of-factly. Matt nodded in agreement.

"So, let's see..."

_**XXX**_

A black Jaguar, followed by a 1988 Mustant pulled up to a Delicatassen in Paramus, New Jersey. The sign on the store simply read, "Farview Deli." Next door was a gas station. There was a black limo at the gas station. On the inside of the small gas station, inside the garage, laid two Middle Eastern men, two bullet holes clearly seen in their skulls. The window of the black limo opened, and smoke bellowed outward. From the two cars parked at the Deli, two men emerged from the cars. One was a tall guy, wearing a nice suit, the other, a medium sized guy, at his side was a holster for a standard .9mm PIstol. He walked over, followed by his friend. They approached the limo, and nodded. A man on the inside smiled as he let a few ashes fall from the cigarette he held in his hand, into the ash tray.

"Did you get what you needed too?" The man in the limo asked.

"Yes we did boss. A girl named Adrianna Conolly lives at a Dormatory at the local school here. S'called Bergen Community College." The taller of the two men spoke.

"Excellant Jimmy." The man in the limo said.

"And the other two, a Diana, and a Nikki, we couldn't find them. However, we did manage to find A Mr. and Mrs. Gerlach, A Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz, and a Mr. Ned Feldman. We found their addresses. We just want the go ahead." The shorter of the two spoke. He was a bit shaken to be in front of the singley, most powerful man in the East Coast.

"Well, by all means, do what needs to be done. Personally, I don't care about the girl either which way. But the families, definitely. Do what needs to be done." The man in the limo said.

"Yessir Boss Vesseti." Jimmy and the shorter man said in total unison. The two were off, and the limo pulled away.

The leader of the Yakavetta family, Anthony Vesseti was grinning to himself as he finished a cigarette and flicked it out the window. These new three, had something in common with the late Papa Joe, and the McMannus family. A lot in common. Soon, the three new "angels" would find themselves taking a short walk off of a long pier. And that quite pleased him. He was going to involve the girl Adrianna. Personally, rape was never his thing. It was too messy. But, if he could get it to where her loveable boyfriend...who just happened to carry a big slick revolver around, to watch, and get a reaction out of him, then it was all the better. He allowed another cigarette to himself. Yes indeed. This was going to be fun ruling the East Coast with an Iron Fist. The black limo drove onward.

_**XXX**_

After Jimmy had left his friend, he decided to go to deal with a Mr. Ned Feldman. As he made his way to the apartment in Bogota, New Jersey, he was thinking of how he'd deal with the problem. Then, he was caught off guard by a loud _BANG!_ and a flat tire as his car skidded out of control. His eyes went wide as he made a collision into a telephone pole, the airbag deploying. The airbag collided with his chest, the car completely totaled. Jimmy undid his seat belt, getting out of the car, falling onto the ground, coughing up blood. He felt his side and screamed out, cursing, in total agony. He had at least two broken ribs, and maybe even more problems than that. He slowly rose to his feet, staggering, and his eyes went wide when he heard the sound of footsteps all around him. He didn't need anyone to see him right now. He removed his pistol from its holster at his side and thumbed back the hammer. He turned around, literally looking wildly, aiming the gun about the air.

"I do hope you can shoot better than you aim dear James. After all, it would be a terrible tragedy if you could barely shoot for shit." A mysterious voice said. Jimmy's eyes went wide.

"Show your fuckin' self! YOU FUCKING PEICE OF SHIT!" Jimmy fired off a couple of beads, and felt comfortable knowing that should have scared this mysterious man. After a few minutes, Jimmy was pleased to see that he was alone again. Or so he thought.

"Your aiming really is horrible! I would like to think that your intended prey would actually be hit by one of those rounds that you so uselessly wasted. But I do believe that the hunter will become the hunted in this situation." The mysterious voice had a twinge of pyschotic glee in his tone, as if he was enjoying these mind games.

"SHOW YOUR FUCKING SELF YOU PEICE OF DOGSHIT! ARE YOU A COWARD? I FUCKING DARE YOU TO SHOW YOURSELF!" Jimmy roared out, spitting blood and saliva all over the place. Then, a loud _whoosh_ was heard as a firey pain ran up his arm, and another shot through his leg, and finally, one last one ran down his chest. His eyes went wide as he felt the warm, sticky liquid of his own blood running down his leg, and down his bicep. He coughed up blood seeing a metal sphere of some sort ram into his chest. He fell to his knees gasping for air as a shrouded figure emerged from, what seemed, literally to be, the shadows.

The figure was wearing some kind of monk like robe. Everything but his eyes were covered, and his eyes were a dark, cold blue. His boots, steel toed, as he usually wore, clacked against the ground as he stepped towards the fallen Jimmy. He smiled, but beneath the robe, it was concealed. He parted his hands from his sleeves, revealing pale, strong hands. He crossed his arms. "Poor Jimmy. It seems you are much worse than you appeared. And as for killing Ned Feldman? I don't believe that will be happening." Jimmy's eyes widened. That pyschotic glee tone he held. That's what did it. The robed figure moved closer to Jimmy boy, and then, without any mercy, kicked him right in the side where his ribs were broken, and with enough force, to where he heard a sickening crack. Jimmy cried out in total agony, undisguised fear and pain in his voice. Blood seeped out of his mouth, leg, and bicep, spilling onto the ground. the robed figure looked around, and noticed that strangely, no one was out. That was always a good thing.

"Please...I'll leave that Feldman guy alone...just don't kill me...please!" He was begging, crying. Jimmy was ready to just call it quits for the mafia lifestyle. This shit just wasn't worth it! He'd go home, stay there, go out when he needed food, and that was it if that was what it would take to live. The robed figure began laughing, and Jimmy knew that laugh all too well.

"You fool. You are going to die, and you will be judged. You cannot deal with the hand that's been given to you. You have been hired to kill, and you've killed literally, fifty people with a growing list. Your friend, sadly, won't be making it home either. I had a nice little chat with him. And it's a shame we never finished. We were having such an interesting conversation. That was, until I used his cigarette lighter and cigarettes, and burned out his eyes. Oh and Jimmy, there's one other thing. I want you to know, that this is definitely not personal. Its only business. My business. The Fallen Saints were murdered because of your boss. And those who have taken their place are the hunted. No, I cannot allow that. It is my job as God's secret emmisary to deal with those who would harm them or their loved ones." The robed figure went into his sleeves, and pulled out a nine inch blade hunting knife. Jimmy's eyes went wide as he screamed out in utter agony as the blade ran across his eyes, literally, cutting off his eye lids. The robed figure laughed insanely, clearly pleased with his work. He brought Jimmy boy to the broken car once more, and opened the hood. There was a gas leak, and the oil was leaking badly. If anyone lit a match, hell, even the slighest spark would set the car off. The robed figure nodded and tossed Jimmy back into his car, and with the knife, wedged it in so he couldn't get out. Just as a precaution. He walked to the other side, and with all the strength he could muster, rammed his foot into the lining of the door. It bent inward, becoming stuck. Jimmy boy wasn't going anywhere now. The Robed figure walked towards the front of the car and produced a cigarette. He lit it and inhaled deeply. He began walking away and turned. He flicked the ciggerette into the front of the car, and he began to walk, as a loud explosion shook the quiet neighborhood. People poured out of their homes, running for the scene, screaming for help.

"I really must quit smoking. It is such a dirty habit." The robed figure said, and began saying a prayer as he made his way out of view.

_**XXX**_

Matt, Tom, and Alex were awakened around four o' clock in the morning by a ringing of their home phone. Tom was the one who got to the phone first. They had only gotten asleep an hour ago. And Matt was pretty damn tired. Alex was pissed. Matt looked at Tom, and together, they called out in unison. "WHO THE FUCK IS CALLING AT 4 IN THE MORNING GOD DAMNIT! DOESN'T ANYONE KNOW WE'RE TRYING TO SLEEP?" Matt and Alex began laughing at the sudden unison they had broken out in.

Tom shook his head, and then it stopped as he heard who was on the other line.

"Holy shit. Are you serious?" Tom's eyes grew wide.

"Alright, we'll be over in twenty minutes." Tom hung up, and looked at Matt and Alex.

"It was Smecker. There's been a murder...and...this time, its something big. We have to meet Smecker at the abandoned Warehouse at District 12." Alex growled lowly as Matt sighed.

"I just want to fucking sleep!" Matt exlcaimed as he began getting dressed.

_A/N: Who is this robed figure? Why is it people never get sleep at four in the morning? Find out in the next chapter. _

_Chapter 4: Never Shall Innocent Blood be Shed, The Blood of the Damned fills more than water._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry for the long await. Granted, probably no one likes where the story has gone, considering the author, myself, has been placed in the story and I killed off our favorite characters. However, as always, no one seems to comment, so I can't really be too sure of what the public thinks. Leave me comments as usual._

Chapter 4

Tom drove the two over to the warehouse where they were meeting Agent Smecker and his entourage. They were tired, and quite honestly, not in the mood to be thhere, at such an ungodly hour. Matt looked about as Smecker walked over with two pictures. The bodies in the pictures were mangled beyond all recognition, but Smecker obviously got an identity. The names weren't so much important as was who they worked for, and what their purpose was. Tom took the two pictures, eyeing them curiously. The bodies looked like something you might have found at a witch hunt during the Salem Witch Trials. Matt looked at the picture, and then Alex looked at them. Matt had to give whoever had done this points for creativity. He sighed. "So, it seems we got us another killer. The question is, why. But that's your job to tell us. The question is, do you even know who they are?" Matt sounded like he was in a bad mood, that, as if someone had encroached on his killing territory. Tom and Alex had heard that tone a lot when they were younger. Smecker looked at him.

"They were Mafia hit men. No more than number runners looking for a big break by their boss. We don't know who the hell their boss is yet, but no doubt we'll find him. They were I.D.ed and that's the point. They were heading towards your father's house Matt. And they were heading for your girlfriend's house Alex." Alex's eyes brimmed with anger at the thought. Tom looked at Alex, and saw the blood thirsty look, and he knew now that Alex was in the mood to hunt. Matt's eyes were darker than Alex's. Matt never allowed anyone to even disrespect his father unless it was neccesary, and even then, that person didn't walk away untouched. Matt growled.

"Don't worry, we got the other agents watching your house, don't worry. As for...this next guy, well, it should only be a matter of time before we get him." Matt nodded, and went out. Tom and Alex followed, and Alex broke the silence.

"Does Matt have an idea to which he wants to share?" Alex inquired. Matt nodded. Tom watched the two exchange looks, and then he caught on. They were going to Hell's Kitchen. They were going to find someone who knew more than they did, and then beat the ever living crap out of that person. Tom always wondered which one of the three of them would most likely snap first. Generally, it was always Matt who was supposed to snap first, mainly because he was headstrong. But...this was different. They had someone killing mafia men, for what purpose, they don't know. And this person, whoever did it, perhaps he or she was one of the good guys? Perhaps he or she was helping them out because they believed that the three were doing the MacMannus' work after all? He wasn't sure, but he now wanted to meet this person, and see what he could find out.

After an hour of searching, they came across a bar, two people had the unfortunate meeting with the three, and wound up with their heads split open, and a few broken bones. The broken bones were courtesy of Tom and Alex. They didn't bring their weapons, at least, the weapons that would bring the cops down on them. Instead, they had their knives, which they always carried. Tom had his two bowie knives, Alex had his two switch blades, and Matt had his two hunting knives with the fine grooves and tips. He was prepared in any event, all three of them were. Walking into the bar, the wafting air hit them. Cigar and cigarette smoke. Matt grabbed three cigarettes from his pack, and handed on to Alex and Tom. He took out his zippo lighter, igniting it, and lighting his cigarette. He lit Tom and Alex's. The three of them nodded, and they made their way over to the man they were pointed too. Joseph Paladino. He was a local gambler, knew a lot of stuff on the mafia. Matt noticed his little entourage, and looked at Tom and Alex. Alex was going to do the talking. They walked over, and Matt and Tom stood behind Alex.

"Joey boy. We gotta talk." Alex stated bluntly. Joseph Paladino was bald, and wearing a black shirt, black pants and a pair of leather shoes. He sighed.

"I ain't got any dust tonight. Sorry boys, find ya fix somewhere else, aight?" Alex just shook his head, laughing.

"Not about that. We want information. Who were the boys sent to Ned Feldman's house, and Nikki Camponelli's house?" Joe looked at them, and he understood. He looked to his entourage of body guards who charged. Tom grinned, grabbed hold of a fist going for Alex's head, and twisted it, snapping it and then threw the man to the floor. THe man was about to move when Tom kicked him in the throat hard with his steel toed boots, and pressed down on his throat. "Move Joey, and I might have to explain to the cops your deals with little girls." Joey growled lowly and withdrew his gun aiming at Matt. Matt stood there, his face impassive. Alex looked at Matt as the two others pulled their guns out aiming them at Alex and Matt.

"Go ahead kid. Be stupid. Wouldn't it be a shame to see their blood on the walls eh?" Joey sounded cocky. That was until his eyes went wide. Alex grinned, one hand holding a switch blade, the other, well, empty due to the switchblade stuck in Joey's gut thanks to a moving hand. The entourage was confused as hell as everyone looked around in awe. Matt drew his blades with deadly speed, and moved with the utter confusion. His left hand found its way into the man's forearm, his right, into his stomach. He yanked the blades at such an angle, the man dropped the gun. He pulled the blades out, headbutting the man hard, breaking his nose. Alex jumped on the table, and rammed his blade into a man's throat, just ending him. He yanked the blade out, the red sticky liquid of blood falling upon the floor. Tom just stomped hard on the one man's throat, snapping his trachea, and ending it. Joey stood up with adreanaline pumping in his veins, and flipped the table, catching the Saints off guard. Joey fired off shots, the other patrons of the bar running for dear life. Matt growled as Alex found his second blade. He looked at the two, and nodded. Tom was the first one out and he caught up to Joey in no time. He grabbed Joey by the scruff of his neck, and turned him around, decking him in the jaw, and following up with his left hand right in the side of the man's temple. Alex came out and charged the man into a wall before he could fall, and proceeded to stomp hard on him. Matt came out, and grabbed hold of the gun on the ground. He pressed it to Joey's fingers and opened fire, the blood splattering on his face. He had fallen into the role of the executioner. Tom growled. "NOw Joey, who ordered the hit? WHO?" Tom's voice echoed, as Joey, half concious spoke. "...Boss...Vincinetti. One of...his...aliases..." Tom watched as he went into the unconcious state. Matt looked at Tom and Alex, grinning. The other two nodded as they lifted the man with no fingers on his right hand off the ground. Matt spoke:

"To thy lord take this sheep," He spoke.

Alex continued. "That you may take his soul to reep."

Tom added, "Bring hiim forth to thy land,"

"So that we may continue to carry out thy command."

"Judge his soul as you would others,"

"Judge him as you did to our other brothers..."

"In Nomine Patri, Et Fili, Et Spiritus Sancti." The three finished in perfect unison. The three of them thrusted their weapons into his chest, and dropped the body. Now they had something to go on. They walked off, and got ready to plan their attack.


End file.
